


Trinity

by TailgatesHarem



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Tailgate femme, Vampire AU, Vampirism, dear DemonsDaughter forgive me lol, genderbent, humanformers au, ladygate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:45:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TailgatesHarem/pseuds/TailgatesHarem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Set after the events of the root fic Full Strawberry Moons)<br/>Tailgate alive and well, Cyclonus now indebted to Galvatron, and Galvatron now becoming affectionate towards the gentle, ghostly girl, the trio spins off in a whole new direction. While the three sort out their hearts they inevitably fall in love with each other, hearts bound by fate and chance. </p><p>Pure domestic fluff with dabs of smut for the survivors and fans of the root fic Full Strawberry Moons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DemonsDaughter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonsDaughter/gifts).



When Temperance looked in the mirror she gasped in joy. Her hair, once unruly and so long it touched the base of her spine, was braided beautifully. She grabbed the mirror and moved it every which way to look at her hair. Two lengths had been braided on each side of her head and pulled back, tying into a beautiful, almost Celtic look. Somehow the man had managed to gather her long mess into an elegant look that was a mix of various braids and a beautiful blue ribbon tied it all at the base of her skull. Hopping up like an overexcited rabbit she spun to pull the man into a squeezing hug. He jolted, giving a grunt of surprise as the tiny girl pulled him close in what he imagined to be her tightest embrace.

Galvatron couldn’t deny the soft spot that had grown for the young woman over the months of the two settling into his life. She was beautiful in a way that was not so seductive as it was intriguing and warm. Her joy and reverence for life was refreshing. He could see what Cyclonus saw in her. But the grumpy Russian pilot was off running errands for the war lord now, bound by both contract and pinky promise (Temperance’s idea).

Now, seeing the beautiful young woman spinning about in her new dress and new hairstyle Galvatron’s heart glowed. He saw a folly in her that reminded him of a young girl he once knew before his life was postponed. She would have fit right in alongside the fire and harvest dances in the Russian autumns. Shame that world was long gone.

Dismissing the dreary thought from his head Galvatron returned to his focus to find the young woman smiling wide and humming a familiar tune. The man couldn’t help but chuckle when he recognized the lullaby. Cyclonus had taught him before they’d been deployed, a somber, but hopeful hymn for those carrying on in a world where it all seemed to be so daringly close to the end. Temperance was that glimmer of hope between them.

Unable to hide his affections much longer the man sighed and leaned off his massive oak desk and shook his keys in the air. The young girl gave him a look of curiosity, her head tilted comically to the side as the hem of her white sundress swished at her knees.

“How about you show off your new look on the town, huh?”

“Cyclonus said not to leave,” she said, head dipping cautiously.

“Cyclonus also said not to harm a hair on your head, but I think we may have pulled a few braiding your Rapunzel locks. Take a chance, huh?” Galvatron watched as the girl thought his over, her mouth pursed and moving as if she were swishing mouthwash around indecisively. Finally, shrugging, she walked ahead of the massive man.

“That’s so cliché,” she snickered, turning her head back momentarily to look at the man as they walked down the dark hallway lit only by can lights and a few wall mounted candles. “The hair on the head thing.”

“Look at you, learning fast for an ex-coma ex-cancer patient,” he chortled.

“Rewonda’s teaching me the ropes of modern society. Not easy when you fall asleep when you’re prepubescent and then suddenly you’re a full grown woman with a pair of vampire consorts.”

Galvatron rolled his eyes in a laugh as he nudged her along. The floor no longer throbbed with loud music because the club goers were either passed out at home or passed out somewhere subpar and good enough. It was the day time and as much as Galvatron would prefer not to feel the burning sun on his dusty skin, he didn’t want to keep such a vibrant soul locked up in a dark, dreary office all day.

Outside on the street cabs and buses hissed in the streets like a congested dragon sighing in defeat. Horns honked loudly as if the cars were frustrated about being stationary so long, their drivers captaining their anger. People zipped up and down both sides of the street, all of them looking at some device with a screen or around for the next turn they needed to take. Temperance, overwhelmed by the pulse of city life, came to a halting stop at the end of this alley. Galvatron looked down and stared at the nervous girl for a long time before he placed a large, rough hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

“The city may be large, loud, and overcrowded, but it doesn’t bite,” he flashed a toothy, sharp grin at the new convert. She returned the smile, her double fanged mouth flashing a brief and small smile. She hadn’t learned the careful art of concealing her fangs just yet and so any show of happiness outside of the company of the knowing few was short-lived. “Could we go to a store?”

“You’re in The Big Apple, Tempy. Gotta be more specific than that,” he said as they daringly ducked into the crowd.

“Tempy,” she smiled to herself, face warming. “It’s a bookstore near our house. Run by a mute with birds and cats and a talkative, blue haired barista?”

“Oh,” he nodded, looking both ways before guiding her across a street. “You mean Blur and creepy quiet. I know of it. What about it piques your interest?”

“I like the tea there and the books smell nice,” she said just over the buzz of the crowd.

“Then to Bibliography Menagerie we go.”

 

Bibliography Menagerie was its own kind of freak show. The jet black cat named Ravage always sat on the counter, a bookshelf of unknown location, or the windowsill. A bird Temperance had never bothered to learn the name of perched on a makeshift branch above the counter behind the cash register, always within sight of the owner. The owner, however, was not the sort of being that evoked a pleasant sensation. Blur, at one point (no one can really keep a record of when because he vomits information like the fluff in a college textbook), had explained despite Simon’s silence he was actually a very pleasant man. Though that might have been mixed into a story about some girl named Wendy and her girlfriend… Temperance seldom follows it all.

Inside the shop on that sunny Sunday afternoon, however, there wasn’t the usual looming presence of Simon and his pets. Ravage was curled around a copy of Pet Cemetery on the counter as usual, but that was just about it. But the strange absence was shoved out of the young woman’s mind the minute she was spun around to be pulled into a tight hug from Brandon.

“You have spent far too many days away from me this time, Temperance,” he laughed, letting her down gently. “Oh, good gracious Mary mother of Christ, you are a large man.”

While Temperance burst into a fit of laughter Galvatron felt slighted. He often avoided the company of others and so forgot about his height and width. Or perhaps it was the fact that Brandon’s frame was thin, sleek, and clearly the one of a runner. He couldn’t decide, but he wasn’t fond of the chattering nuisance one bit.

“Temperance, he’s huge!” Brandon hissed in a smile as he led the girl over the café area of the bookstore. “Have a look around sasquatch. Find something that suits your fancy.”

Over at the café area a few patrons sat quietly, plugged into music devices and computers, eyes watching the vibrant man exuberantly talk with his guest. He began making the lavender earl grey London Fog, a drink she’d requested each visit after its discovery.

“I swear. Where do you even find these tall, broad, creepily gorgeous men?” Brandon laughed, carefully watching the milk as it frothed with the steam nozzle dipped deeply into metal cream carafe.

“Creepily gorgeous?” She raised a brow daringly.

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you aren’t totally goin’ to town on that.”

The girl turned pink in the face. Rewonda had gone down a list of swears, euphemisms, and figures of speech that were useful for any 18 plus in New York. She remembered that one because it sounded so absurd and thus missed not a single beat in the conversation.

“I… I am not,” she nodded slowly.

“What? Are you a lesbian? Because that’s totally okay. Girls are great too, I mean, I prefer boys, you know. But I won’t judge. There are a lot of great girls in New York, too!” He gabbed on and on as he steeped the custom tea steeper in the cup.

“Whoa, whoa,” she laughed softly. “No, I just… sex and me just… I don’t know. Not my thing,” she shrugged.

“What have you, like, never done it? Won’t judge, won’t judge.”

“No, that’s not it. I just… have no interest, you know?”

“Oh, oh! So you’re ace!”

“Huh?”

Brandon then went into a conversation that could have been considered lengthy to slower speaking individuals, but not for someone who talks as fast as he works and refuses any filters on the content. He then explained, in both gross detail and quickly, the asexual and aromantic spectrum. By the time he was done the drink was ready with just a sprinkling of lavender sugar over top a thick pile of whipped cream under the lid.

“Then I guess I’m an ace. Sounds kinda cool,” she shrugged. “But you can still be in… like… love right?”

“If that’s your fancy, yeah. So, let me rephrase everything. If you’re not totally cuddling that gorgeous thing to death I’ll smack you with one of the mixing spoons,” he laughed heartily at his own joke, the young woman sharing the laugh.

“Hmmm… never thought about it… not sure if Cyclonus would like it.”

“Ooh. Well if everyone’s consenting and happy why not be poly?”

“Who-zit what now?” She asked, turning back towards the counter.

“Polyamorous. When three or more people are in a consenting sexual and or romantic relationship together. That way you get to cuddle both the tall creepy one and the other hunk,” Brandon winked deviously. “Ah, but I’ll stop pestering you. It’s your life. But hey, enjoy, ‘kay?”

“Kay,” she shook her head as she went to go find the largest man in the entire shop which was surprisingly vast.

Back twenty something shelves of books Galvatron was bent over a massive book that looked averagely sized in his meaty hands. He was reading it carefully, eyes scrolling back and forth at a frightening speed. Temperance watched for a long moment before slurping her London Fog loudly. “What’cha reading?”

The man’s head jerked up as he smiled at her in that calm, cool way once more. He turned the cover over to her as she read it aloud to herself. “History of Warfare: From Primitive to Renaissance,” she said, nodding as if it was vaguely interesting when it, in fact, sounded a horrid read.

“Personal interest. Find anything?” Galvatron asked, the girl looking around the shelves a moment before spying a section on World War One. She yanked the novel off the shelf and turned it in her hands before holding it up. “Ah. The first of the twin wars. Long, long war. People didn’t think it would ever end, you know.”

“But it did.”

“Like all things, yes. But at the time it seemed like it had always been there and always would be,” Galvatron nodded as he scooted over on the small steps leading into another area of books. Temperance took a seat beside him with the smallish novel in her hands and looked at the young man on the cover. He was strong, handsome, and looked hopeful alongside a dog and a young blonde boy with a nervous look on his face. It looked something like a rescue story. “You don’t want to read something like that.”

“Why not?”

“Wars are morbid things. I think you’ve seen enough sadness in your life. Here…” He said, handing her thirty dollars. “Find something a shade less dark and it’s yours. Afterwards we can get lunch and sneak back to the club before that serial frowner notices we left, huh?”

The young woman nodded eagerly and skipped off, leaving her drink so that she wouldn’t spill it. Galvatron sat on the steps and closed the book, large hand sliding down its back cover slowly as he brushed the war from his mind. Ah what a time. What a horrible thing he did to drive a wedge between him and Cyclonus. But in the past now. Now there was just that fresh, cool dawn of a woman who seemed to soften the both of them. “Haha… love,” he muttered. “Such a strange thing.”

 

Finally settling on a book about a ghost and an old house Temperance and Galvatron walked out of the store with new possessions and headed down to a Russian café that you could almost miss. It was a literal hole in the wall, the doors of the small eatery opening outward against the brick walls on the side of a main building, revealing a full blown café. Inside fresh breads, soups, and cultural dishes overflowed. The young woman adjusted slowly to the unique smell of it all, ordering something that Galvatron suggested. She listened to the heavy, intriguing sound of Russian roll off his tongue as he paid for four small pastries. They slid out of the small place and skittered down an alley, hoping to cover some distance as they headed back towards a main street.

“How is it?”

“Um… Can we eat?”

“Hmm… I can. Cyclonus claims he can’t stand the taste anymore. Probably told you you’re on a liquid diet? Give it a try, huh?”

The meat bun was cooked only on the outside, the meat inside completely raw and bloody, warmed by the baking on the outside with some of the dough gooey on the inside. She licked her lips as she ate, sated in both need for blood and sustenance.

“It’s really good.”

“They don’t really know anything other than I like rare meat so you can always get them there,” he nodded, taking a bite of his own bun. The man glanced down at his watch as they neared the end of the long, wide alley. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“We’re late.”

 

Back in the club Cyclonus sighed. He was both angry and unsurprisingly disappointed. He sat the papers, files, and coffee on the desk and dropped into a tall chair by the fireplace. His legs were tired and he was cold from spending the whole day underground. He loathed the pits of fighting rings and information snitches, but if you wanted their knowledge you had to go down under.

The ex-pilot noted the scuffling noise of Galvatron and Temperance shuffling down the hallway hissing for silence and they neared the door. He raised a questioning brow as the two stumbled in, freezing when they saw him slouched in the chair. Temperance’s hair was braided and pulled back just like the girls from their homelands. She was wearing a lacey white sundress with a blue ribbon around the middle, her shoes matching that shade of blue. She tried standing her straightest and looking innocent, but it wasn’t working. Even with her slender, sloping shoulders squared and thrown back like Rewonda told her to, she looked guilty. Galvatron, however, was used to getting caught going places he wasn’t supposed to and so whisked on by without so much as a halt.

“What part of no one leaves don’t you follow?” Cyclonus sighed, rolling his shoulders as his joints popped loudly.

“All of it,” Galvatron blurted, laughing as he sat their spoils on the desk and grabbed the coffee. “You don’t marry a beautiful girl to lock her in a tower, Cyc.”

“Are you insinuating a marriage?” He hissed, eyes narrowing. Temperance and Galvatron both felt the sting of his words.

“No. It was an expression. Joke? Metaphor, maybe you get metaphor. Look, hour three struck and we got bored. No harm, no foul,” he said, planting a kiss on Cyclonus’ forehead which was met with a swat. “See what I have to deal with? He doesn’t love me!”

Temperance jokingly walked over and kissed the side of Cyclonus’ face, an action which was met with a grunt. The war lord frowned as he looked down at his complicated friend. His face mirrored the expression of offense. “You’ve known her for less than a year and you still hate my affections. Ah, but such a pretty girl. Who could deny your niceties,” he sighed, kissing both of their heads, turning away before he could be smacked.

The young woman recalled Blurs words on polyamory and beamed. She gave Cyclonus a warm hug, his arm coming around her back in a half return as he leaned closer to the radiating heat of the fire and her body. This could work, she thought. She loved both of them in a unique way and both ways felt natural. It felt right.

 

Later that night Cyclonus and Temperance walked back to their one room apartment atop the beautiful building, hand in hand. They quietly snuck up the fire escapes to the roof, the night in full swing on the streets below. But up on the roof, above the cluster of life, it was peaceful. Temperance could be truly free away from prying eyes despite her naturally expressive and bold nature.

She recalled a time when she was just trembling all over and scared of the mystery of everything, when she was chased and persecuted by monsters it seemed only she could see. She remembered when she saw that strong, dark man sitting in the garden and clung to him for protection, mind still racked with fear of the hissing snaps of the jaws that could be close behind. Now, turning on the roof with a bright smile over her face, she saw so much more than her own fear. She saw the a man she trusted and loved in a way that was all its own.

“What are you smiling about?” Cyclonus asked, lighting a cigarette with his hand dipped over the match and the end of the smoke.

“Nothing,” she chuckled, kissing his cheek before walking off to take a shower.

The young woman grabbed one of the two towels in the apartment and skipped off the shower while her partner trudged inside to feed the woodstove fire and collapse on his beautiful archaic bed of furs and sheets. Once Temperance returned she had stolen a large t-shirt of the pilots and crawled into bed, her long hair still braided and damp. She stared at Cyclonus who was curled on his side with half-lidded eyes that stared at her. He was shirtless and clothes only by tight briefs. His long, strong legs, seldom exposed, were beautiful. What was Temperance thinking, all of him was beautiful. She smiled softly and wiggled closer, finding comfort against the pilot’s chest as she closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry we left the club,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

“I was wrong to think I could cage you like that,” he replied softly, voice gravely and soft as he kissed the top of her head. “The fault is mine.”

“Mm… it’s not caging. You meant well.”

Cyclonus slowly pulled the young woman close in a sigh of relief. Ever since that madman had kidnapped her and the others he feared his resurgence. Every day he imagined some strange way he and his legion could have survived. Nevertheless, nothing had happened. Months had passed and autumn was in full, fair-weathered swing and the only danger that had threatened Temperance was a moral opposition to blood consumption that lasted two weeks. She had passed out in Rung’s office in hunger when Cyclonus had discovered her fasting.

In the warm silence of the apartment amidst the crackle of the woodstove and the flickers of the candles on the altar the pilot hummed that sweet foreign song, finding peace as he felt the young woman drift into slumber. He murmured the words, pulling a quilt over them as the settled in for the night.

Finally, Temperance asleep and arms slack, the pilot sighed and finished his song. He stroked her hair softly in the night. Oh the worries he saved for this one being. Now it seemed Galvatron was attracted to her soulful warmth. He knew that the war lord would never sacrifice his passions for his own body, but it seemed, just as he felt, that Galvatron’s intentions were far from sexual. This young woman seemed to be a glue that bound them all together. A triangle that was not dramatic, no secrets and betrayal… a peaceful trinity.


	2. Chapter 2

Rewonda wrapped her slender arms around Temperance’s shoulders in a warm hug as the two walked into Swerve’s bar. It was always a great place to grab a bite and a drink even if it wasn’t to get drunk. The young woman had wrapped her white hair in two poofs of pigtails behind her head, blue shades still hiding those glimmering eyes. She led them over to a seat off in the corner near some couches and board games. Swerve brought cherry soda for Rewonda and a white Russian for Temperance.

“Swerve,” the information specialist frowned.

“What, she’s not gonna pass out over one drink. ‘Sides, it suits her. You know, the Russian mob trio. Anyway, enjoy,” Swerve smirked, skating back to the counter and hopping up on the raised bar, talking excitedly with Skids who was going over some work at the counter.

Rewonda spat something under her breath and shook her own drink at the pale girl. “Be careful. That’s got alcohol in it. Fine joke, but war lord and pilot will skin me if I bring you back drunk.”

The young woman seemed to get a kick out of this thought and sipped it slowly anyway. Unlike what she’d heard of alcohol this drink didn’t burn. It was cold, sweet, milky, and very tasty. If there was alcohol in it she couldn’t tell. And so they carried on a small conversation. “So… are you…?” Rewonda asked, tapping her canines.

“Yeah,” the girl smiled, head dipping instinctively.

“Don’t worry. This is an Underground den. You got teeth so do handfuls of others.”

Seeing both Rewonda’s interest and the safety of the bar Temperance showed the young siren her double fangs with a smile. She instantly scooted over for a closer look, sliding her shades up on her head to really see things. Rewonda smiled and nudged her softly. “Look at you.”

“Galvatron says the teeth double up like this for young and new converts to get more blood per bite. They’re like training wheels for teeth,” the ghostly girl explained, licking them out of habit as she took another sip of her drink.

“Training wheels for teeth. I like that. So, other than your new paranormal origins and lack of cancer and comatose state,” Rewonda said, clinking glasses with the girls in a cheers, “What’s up with your new body guards?”

This seemed like a strange question to the girl as she never considered Galvatron or Cyclonus to be guards of any kind. Galvatron was a known leader in the Underground drug, information, and gambling industry but treated her gently and showed her the ropes of a real life. Cyclonus was an ex pilot who ran errands and protected her when necessary. Both of them were strong and wonderful people with many facets. It never seemed like they were hired guns.

“Hmm… I suppose if I define anything it’ll put a finiteness on our relationship that doesn’t seem suitable,” Temperance admitted, taking another sip of the drink.

“Well if anyone’s suited to tame those two you’d be the best for the job,” Rewonda jokingly laughed, finishing her drink and leaning back with legs crossed. “Don’t ever let the world make something that works for you into another. Once other people start telling you what it is and isn’t your own mind becomes muddled with things that don’t matter.”

Temperance smiled, setting her drink down and settling in the chair she’d sat in. The bar had low ceilings and warm lighting, a bandstand in the back with a bar that glowed with the backlit alcohol shelves. It was peaceful and fun. Ambiguous and lighthearted, the chat reminded Temperance of what it felt like to be around Galvatron and Cyclonus. Just a second away from the chaos to breathe in contentment.

 

Galvatron felt his heart throb as he pressed a hand into Cyclonus’ back, urging him farther down. The room was hot and heavy with sweat and soft moans. He sat there thinking of the last time he had the stoic pilot in such a weak, needy state. It had to be the fifties. No… earlier? Who knew. All he could think of now was furthering that fighting look of pleasure on Cyclonus’ face as he craned his neck back in a gasp. The two were locked together, the room suspended in self-gratification of both parties.

“Ngh… always… taking things so slow,” Galvatron hissed, pulling Cyclonus down on him harder. The pilot gave a surprised gasp, face red as he dug his nails into the war lord’s shoulder.

“F-for a reason. Mnn,” he moaned, biting his lip in regret. He hated the sounds that came out of his mouth, but he couldn’t stop them anymore. It felt too good. “God…” He hissed. Soon the pilot picked up speed, sliding up and down on Galvatron’s hard length. He felt his body resort to shoving the man back, hands pressed on his broad chest.

Thrown back on the bed Galvatron stared in both surprise and delight as Cyclonus gave into the feeling of bliss that filled him. The man, usually so somber and gloomy, was alive and heated on top of him. The war lord gave a hiss and chuckling moan of pleasure as he was ridden. His hand pulled Cyclonus down harder, his own sharp teeth digging into his lip as he quickened his pace.

“S-say it,” Galvatron hissed, thrust his hips up quickly, bringing Cyclonus to the gasping edge.

“Ngh… no,” he whined, legs shaking as he came so close.

Finally, stopping dead, Galvatron laid back, hands laced behind his head. Cyclonus’ eyes popped open as he glared down at his friend. He grabbed the man by the neck and snarled. “Hah… don’t stop… n-not yet.”

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say. It.”

“Wh-why’s that so important.”

“You can say it the girl.”

“Galvatron!” Cyclonus snapped, riding in heated need on his friend. “Please.”

The war lord sighed and bucked his hips up once, his own member throbbing in pain as he chased that heated crash of pleasure. He frowned momentarily as he pulled the pilot down on him hard. The man gasped hard, nails digging into Galvatron’s chest as he came hard. His body shook as the war lord grunted, his own body releasing. He held Cyclonus on top of him as he rode the ecstasy out, purring as he felt the pilot’s nails cut into his rugged chest.

Moments after Cyclonus collapsed over Galvatron’s chest, panting and face dripping with sweat. The larger man smirked and slid himself out of the pilot carefully, sighing as the thinner man collapsed on his side next to him. They stayed in each other’s arms for a long moment, bodies recovering from what felt like running a mile. Galvatron was the first to let a low, satisfied chuckle from his lips.

“God is it… so hard,” he sighed.

“Yes,” Cyclonus replied weakly, pulling close to the man.

“Why?”

“Because it could hurt Temperance.”

“She’s not here,” Galvatron defended, leaning up with an incredulous look. “Besides, she knows you’re here.” Cyclonus remained silent, face turned away. “She doesn’t know you’re here?!”

“I don’t even know if she knows how sex works!” Cyclonus snapped, face still red.

“Has it ever occurred to you we could be together? The three of us?”

The pilot sighed indignantly, turning away and pulling one of the blankets on the bed close to his shoulder. Galvatron frowned and pulled the man close as he felt the usual sleepiness close in on him. He frowned and sighed, kissing the base of the pilot’s neck. “I don’t share.”

“No? She’s sharing. I’m sharing. Your pride drives the wedge.”

“She’s not a corner girl you can pimp out,” Cyclonus snapped, teeth lazily biting at Galvatron’s palm.

“I’m not suggesting she work the alleys. I’m saying she stays with us. Doesn’t have to be sexual. She’s a domestic epoxy. She holds us together.”

This notion made Cyclonus grumble, his own eyes foggy with exhaustion as he subconsciously leaned closer to the larger man. He loved Temperance but he couldn’t deny his long founded relationship both physical and romantic with this man who’d given him a second life. There was so much to think about and Galvatron could see all of these thoughts race around on the pilot’s face.

“Don’t overthink it too much,” Galvatron whispered. “We’re in this together.”

 

Sure enough, against Rewonda’s advice, Temperance was more than a little tipsy and excited to get into the night where people really lived. She suggested going to Galvatron’s club, Crown Jewels. The girls, high from the chance to really live, grabbed Swerve to leave Skids to cover the bar and took a taxi helmed by their very own Chromedome. The line in front of the club was long and snaked around several corners, but the bouncer simply saw the young trio and lifted the red velvet rope without a thought. Several people fronting the line groaned and swung their arms in disbelief. The girls and the chatty harpy cared not.

At the bar centered in the club a pool of lit water encircled it. The edge of the pool said if you can’t wade or swim across the bar you’ve had enough. Temperance, sober enough, led her friends to the barstools and watched as Rewonda slid a business card with a silver U on a matte black background to the man. He nodded and took orders. A white Russian, cosmo, and Jack and coke.

The room swelled with dancing people, lights, smoke from machines positioned above, and a DJ that had no intention of stopping until the sun stretched over the city. Temperance laughed along as she kicked her shoeless feet in the water and talked excitedly with Swerve while Rewonda slipped into the crowd for a dance. Seeing her beckoning glance Swerve joined her, leaving the young pale girl illuminated in blue at the bar.

The young woman laughed gleefully as she felt the warmth of the third drink of the night spread through her. She leaned close to the counter as she imagined Cyclonus joining her. But he wasn’t the clubbing sort and she wasn’t so sure if she was just yet. Before she could decide to skip upstairs, however, a man slid on the stool next to her with a snide grin.

“Haven’t seen you around,” he said over the music. “What’s your name?”

“Temperance,” she called.

“Nice,” he smiled, clearly not in the know of information exchange. “So where are your friends? Don’t tell me you came out here all alone.” The young woman pointed to the dance floor with a nod, sipping from her drink again and licking her soft pink lips. He grinned again, leaning a little closer. His hand expertly spilt his own drink, cursing as he handed Temperance a napkin, dropping a pill into her drink smoothly. Unfortunately there was one aspect of night culture that Rewonda had failed to mention to the new adult: roofies.

Within half an hour Temperance felt her vision blur, mind chalking it up to the alcohol. But something wasn’t right. Her head felt like she’d just gotten off a roller coaster and her mind was a blur. She grabbed the edge of the counter, leaning off the barstool onto the crash into the water. A few people gasped as the man helped her out, saying to the bartender that he was going to help her outside. Temperance was dizzy and couldn’t find herself, the room a spinning vision of lights and noise as she was carried towards the door.

From the bar, however, Swerve was coming back to the island. He looked at the spilt drink and Temperance’s which wasn’t empty just yet. He looked around for the girl when one of girls sitting on the island told him. “Some guy chatted her up before she got totally trashed. Went to give her some air,” she laughed, clearly inebriated beyond understanding. Hearing this trail of events the bartender lifted the drink to his sharp, strong nose. He choked and dropped the glass in the water. It reeked of that chemical twinge of a date rape drug.

 

Outside in the alley Temperance was pinned to the wall by the man’s weight, her head heavy as she shoved weakly against him. He was sliding his hands down her side while he licked his lips, chuckling lowly. The young woman tried focusing her eyes but felt her body grow heavy as her legs went limp. She was losing consciousness fast. The man, only satisfied with the drug’s effects, began unzipping his pants.

Thankfully Swerve and Rewonda rounded the counter. Seeing what was about to happen the young harpy lunged forward and tackled the man to the ground, nailing his face with a small fisted punch that cracked against his skin. The man screamed as his nose was broken in two places and his lip gushed blood. Rewonda knelt beside her friend, smacking the young woman’s cheek hoping to rouse her.

Unfortunately for Swerve he was the smaller one and was kicked several times by the frustrated man who was becoming more aggressive by the second. The harpy hissed, covering his head and curling on his side to protect his stomach. His back could take the beating easily. He just had to buy some time.

“Any time now, ugh! Rewonda, come on!” The harpy coughed, wincing as the steel tipped boot nailed his shoulder.

The young woman, taking in a lungful of air, belted a siren’s scream high into the air. The mundanes wouldn’t notice anything but vampires who owned the entire borough would surround the alley in minutes.

 

Cyclonus bolted upright from the bed, looking at Galvatron who was hopping into his pants when they heard the scream. It was Rewonda. The pilot flew so fast from the bed and into his clothes that the only way Galvatron could have described it would be something like a dust devil whirring around the room. Cyclonus had grabbed all his clothes and dressed by the time he got to the door, throwing it open and running through the office and down the hall.

Outside in the alleyway Swerve’s face was bloody as he laid on his side, a panting man standing over him with an angered, but confused expression. However, it wasn’t long between the time Cyclonus saw Temperance unconscious in Rewonda’s arms and the time that man was thrown so hard against the dingy alley wall that he easily could have fused with the mortar. He gave a choked gasp as petechia formed in his eyes, lungs starving for air.

Seeing the wrath flowing through the man Galvatron pulled his partner off the man forcefully, taking the pilot’s place. He grabbed his arm and twisted so hard the sound of his hand breaking was audible, his screams just as loud. His eyes filled his tears as they streamed down his face, jaws clenched tight in pain.

“You know why I just broke your hand?” He asked calmly, squeezing the injury.

“I-I don’t kn-know man oh god you fucking broke my fucking hand. What the hell?”

“You _know_ why I broke your hand. You’ve been scoping my club for the fucking year, dropping pills in girls’ drinks. But you know what, I’d blacklisted your little piss ant ass. How you snuck past security this time I really don’t fucking know. But you know what, the girl you drugged this time? She’s mine. She’s ours. And you know what, this is the only time in my life the phrase ‘What’s mine is yours’ doesn’t not, fucking, _apply_ ,” Galvatron growled, twisting his arm as it broke at the elbow. The thin, greyish man screamed louder and began sobbing.

“L-let me go, let me go!” He wailed, legs shaking.

“Mm. No. Because if I let you go then you’re going to wait until your arm is healed and you’ll go to another club and drug another girl and ruin her life. She probably won’t have people like us to do this to your other arm either,” Galvatron growled, reaching another arm up and grabbing his arm where it was still in one piece. But not for long.

“Wh-what are you doing? What…? No, no, no, no, no!” He screamed as Galvatron crushed the bone, the man screaming shrilly as he wet himself, entire body shaking as his arm screamed in misery.

“So here’s what’s going to happen next, huh? You’re going to apologize to the young lady and her friend you beat up until they feel your regret. Then you’re going to spend an hour with my dogs. You met my dogs? Beautiful dogs. Pit bulls. Don’t worry. They’re not fighting dogs. But you know what, kid? They’re hungry dogs.”

Cyclonus only stood back with fists balled as he watched the sufficient punishment ensue. The man was thrown to the ground, sobbing and groveling as he apologized over and over, body shaking as he begged for forgiveness. Swerve only looked up and Galvatron after he kicked the man in the face, the war lord waving one of his bouncers around the corner of the club.

“Introduce our returning offender to my dogs, would you?”

“With pleasure, sir,” the man said grabbing the man by the back of his shirt collar and walking him around another corner where there were less people and where the dog kennels were. Fortunately the party didn’t stick around to hear what would follow.

 

Inside the club Swerve was stitched up and given a nice shot of whiskey to numb his face. Rewonda took him in a cab home with Chromedome, leaving the unconscious Temperance in safe hands. She frowned, trying to explain that she shouldn’t have left her alone, but Galvatron turned on a rare spark of gentlemanly charm and told the young woman that the fault was all his and his inadequate staff.

When the three were finally alone Cyclonus was staring at Temperance’s scuffed knees and ripped black hose. He couldn’t bear to confirm any suspicions. He only punched a fist against the wall and muttered something bitterly in Russian. Watching this circular pacing on his Persian rugs Galvatron pulled his friend’s shoulder.

“Don’t!” The pilot snapped.

“Cyc,” he began, the man cutting him off.

“I should have been there. I should have… I told myself I wouldn’t… fuck!” And another round of swearing in Russian filled the air as the young girl turned on the lounge by the fireplace. Sighing, Galvatron stopped his friend with sheer strength. “What?!”

“She’s fine. She’ll be hung over and won’t remember much, but the harpy and the siren got there just in time. She’s _fine_ Cyc,” he hissed, pressing his large hand down on his shoulders.

“You sure…?”

“She’s fine. Dodged a bullet.”

The pilot collapsed to his knees in a sigh of absolute relief, his body suddenly heavy and tired from the suspense. Galvatron only pressed a knowing hand back against his shoulder and went to get some clean blankets and more food for the fire. It didn’t seem like they were really going to leave the room for the night anyhow. They couldn’t take Temperance back to the bed as it was clearly filthy and Cyclonus obviously wasn’t leaving her side.

 

Temperance groaned and stretched, head throbbing as she regretted the motion. She winced, hand coming over her eyes as she squinted at everything. It was all so bright, loud, and intense coupled with the worst migraine of her life. She rubbed her eyes slowly as she sat up at a glacial pace. When she was fully upright, shoulders slouched and body bent forward lazily she saw that Cyclonus was curled on his side next to the loud with a blanket over him and a pillow under him. Legs wide and head thrown back in a loud snore Galvatron slept in the massive master’s chair by the fireplace which had been reduced to a glowing pile of chars. She smiled softly as she yawned.

Daringly the young woman yawned, the pilot and Galvatron waking almost instantly. Galvatron sat upright, hands gripping the arms of the chair as he looked around quickly and relaxed when he saw the young woman kicking her feet softly on the lounge. Cyclonus, however, instantly sat on the fixture beside and her gingerly wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his own face tired and pale.

“Awful, but in one piece,” she whispered. “So why’s everyone camped out here?”

The two men looked at each other for a long moment before silently agreeing with each other.

“Dirty bed, spontaneity, whimsy, I don’t know. Pick one,” Galvatron said, swishing the air with his hand.

“Okay,” she nodded, sleepy, hungry, and feeling very small. “Breakfast?”

“I’ll run and get some of the buns, how about that? Huh Tempy?” Galvatron nodded, the girl smiling affectionately at him. “Want some real food Cyc or am I making a run by The Red Cross too?”

“Red Cross,” he replied, pulling the young woman close to him.

“Of course.”

Once Galvatron had left to gather some provisions Cyclonus settled Temperance on the lounge and left to get her a new outfit that was less damp and dank. He returned with a large sweater and some yoga pants that was at the top of her hamper. She thankfully took it and began undressing. The pilot jumped, instinctually turning away. She laughed softly as she slid out of the dress and out of the ripped hose.

“Shy, huh?” She said softly, voice smoky.

“Respectful,” he replied curtly.

“Mm…” She smiled, turning and hugging Cyclonus softly from behind. She felt her body press against his softly and smiled as she nuzzled his back with a warm, affectionate sigh. The pilot, however, was staring with wide eyes into the space as he felt the distinct sensation of a naked person pressing against his back.

“Temperance?” He asked, holding his voice steady.

“Yes?”

“Are you naked?”

“Yes I am,” she said, still hugging him. “Just a hug is all. Not insinuating anything,” she whispered, holding him close to her for a long time. The pilot sighed pleasingly, eyes closing as he held her hands that wrapped around his middle from behind. Of course she would be the type to be so carelessly free with herself. He liked it, smiling to himself as the woman slowly let go like an autumn breeze brushing past you. He listened to the sound of her sliding into her pants and sweater and finally turned. “See? All covered up,” she smiled sleepily as the large sweater dipped off her bare, smooth shoulder.

“Do you remember much?” He asked, gathering the blankets off the floor.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “But I don’t think I want to.”

“Why?”

“Neither you nor Galvatron have a whimsical bone in your body. You were protecting me from something.”

Cyclonus stared at the young woman and sighed. She was right. She was intuitive and just as emotionally on point as any good empath such as herself was supposed to be. She leaned forward and hugged the man again, feeling his unease radiating off of him. “Whatever it was… it didn’t get me, okay?” The man nodded, pressing another affectionate kiss to her forehead before dipping down to press their lips together. It was slow, soft, and endearing; a kiss almost founded entirely of platonic love and affection. The romance was only due course.

Parting, the two smiled at each other, Temperance stealing the blankets and returning them to the hamper in the other room. Just as she left the office and living space Galvatron slipped back inside, immediately confirming anything with his partner. Cyclonus explained it all and graciously took the two packs of blood from the war lord’s hand.

“So why can’t you ever kiss me like that?” Galvatron asked with a bun in his mouth.

“Excuse you?”

“When have you ever been alone, really alone, when you’re at my place?” He smirked, zipping past quickly to hand the rest of the food and a piping cup of tea to the soft-spoken girl. She took it with a thanks and sat back on the lounge and began gnawing on the treats.

A layer of drama swept away the three could sit around the now rekindled fire once more in peace. Temperance patted the space next to her on the lounge for Galvatron. Cyclonus gave a permitting look to him, scooting over. Squished shoulder to shoulder the three sat on the lounge in the silence of eating and watching the fire. Temperance smiled to herself as she set her drink on the ground along with the food. She pulled one hand from each of the men into her lap as she laced her fingers into theirs. She leaned on Cyclonus’ shoulder with a sigh of contentment.

“Just for once, okay? Three… love in threes,” she smiled.

Cyclonus felt his heartstrings played as the warmth of the three of them kept his usually cold frame alight with a comforting heat. Galvatron smiled in satisfaction as he laid one arm over the side of the lounge and looked at the pilot. The man rolled his eyes and sighed, both of them agreeing it could work. And so, the three drifted into a more complete sleep, hand in hand, by the warmth of the radiating fire as the sun burned high in the sky outside of the warm, wintry office. It was a vision of romantic harmony and all Temperance could think of as she was lulled to sleep by the men’s unison song under their breaths was how love had never felt more right.


	3. Chapter 3

A week passed before Temperance’s eyes and it seemed she valued her own company for some reason. The solitude, no longer filled with monsters and uncertainty, brought her comfort. Days and late nights were spent scouring the stacks of books at the store where she had learned to artfully avoid Brandon the chatty Kathy. She’s begun to understand Simon’s silence as he checked her books out and let her on her way with a gentle, respectful nod.

Perhaps the need for quiet had something to do with her teeth throbbing all the time. She found she was snappier than usual at people and thus staying quiet and alone was just for the best. The young woman’s mind recalled how Galvatron told her of the second pair of teeth. “They’re just for your first few weeks of feeding. Once you get a hang of proper eating the smaller ones will fall out. Not gonna be fun, but you’re a strong one,” the massive man had smirked.

White hair piled on her head in a bun Temperance stared at her face in the mirror for a long time. She opened her mouth and saw the gums around the second teeth were red and sore. She licked them with a sigh and played with her bangs. Never in her life could she have imagined such an end to things. Blood, sacrifice, and endless time seemed all too fictional for an ex-coma patient. And yet there she stood, her crystal clear blue eyes staring at her ghostly complexion in the mirror with scrutiny. It seemed she’d gone completely white with the change, not just soft peach tones like the paler of the Caucasian world. And yet when she parted her soft pink lips her mouth seemed so strikingly red and pink, vibrant against her snowy expression.

Even more complex was her heart, a seemingly fragile muscle that played confused melodies on her heartstrings. She hadn’t heard of loving more than one person. Though, to be fair, she hadn’t heard of sirens or harpies being other than fictional tales gone with the days of mythology either. And yet there she stood, devotion to Cyclonus and dearly affectionate with Galvatron. She must have looked like a ghost on the shoulders of giants next to them, slender and small compared to their tested muscles and countenances. The glass ballerina at the paws of dogs. Loyal… loyal dogs, she corrected herself. No, she’d already wronged them by thinking something so low. She felt her cheeks warm as she brushed her grey sweater off and grabbed the black leggings, sliding them over her pallor skin and slipping her feet into blue flats. She glanced at herself in the full length mirror in Galvatron’s bathroom and smiled. She looked nice. Now if only her mouth would stop throbbing.

 

Brandon was opening shop when he saw Temperance sneak in, the young woman dressed in a casual sort of chic look. He noted her intentional fashion and smirked as he fired up the espresso machine. He said nothing, Simon’s agreement being that he would keep his chattering to a bare minimum until more than ten customers had come through the shop. Temperance was the first.

“Good morning, Tempy,” he smiled, already working on the lavender London fog.

“Morning,” she smiled, taking her blue clutch purse and grabbing the usual amount of money that covered a lavender London fog and a croissant and jam. “Awfully quiet. Are you ill?”

Chuckling the barista frothed the milk expertly and steeped the tea at the same time. He whispered, “No, but Simon and I are in agreement that his mornings are quiet at the very least. Every hour after the silence limit I get an extra dollar an hour.”

“Oh,” the girl laughed, sliding the money across the counter.

“Luckily for me I can hold out for that extra cash. I can talk as much as I want so long as I keep it under volume. I get extra cash and he gets quiet.”

“Seems fair,” she nodded, bouncing on her heels.

“So what’s been up with you? You’re here practically every day reading and not even in the company of tall, dark, or menacing,” Brandon chuckled as he slid the pastry into the microwave and grabbed the blackberry and lemon preserves.

Temperance explained that she’s been very curious about the world because she knew so little. She skipped the part of aching teeth and dreamless sleep. This alienated feeling was best kept to herself. She didn’t know just how closely Brandon was associated with the Underground. “Hmm. Well, has anything caught your eye?”

“Oh, yes, yes. I really seem to like the mythology section,” she smiled, sipping the hot beverage as she watched the man spread the butter and jam on the inside of the sliced treat. “The story of… um, how do you say it… Persephone?” Brandon tried hiding his laugh. So many people pronounced the lady of the underworld’s name as Perse-Phone that if she were listening her name would bring furies forth.

“Persephone,” Brandon smiled as he put the money in the cash box. “The language is very different from English, but why the story of the kidnapped young woman?” He inquired, having spent hours organizing the old and new books himself.

“I’m not sure… I mean, the story is very sad, don’t get me wrong, but… Hades… he was very lonely, wasn’t he? His brothers hated him and he hated them in turn, but… I don’t know, I don’t think I could hate him for what he did. After all, he does let Persephone return to her mother once each year,” Temperance sighed, feeling the echo of the story in her own. “He loves her even if it may have seemed problematic at the time.”

“Oh, it was very problematic. Demeter, her mother, almost let the human race die from starvation and plagues in her grief, unable to attend to the earth. But you are right… the story is very complicated. Are you sure you’re enjoying something so morbid?”

“Yes,” the woman smiled, taking her food and leaving Brandon graciously at the counter.

Back in the stacks she settled down in a chair that was so wide and deep that she could curl up on her side. She had grabbed two books on the great myths of ancient Greece and begun reading by a low crackling fire, the mantle adorned with candles and herbs that filled the air with seasonal sweetness. The smell of the fire was heavy and comforting in the clearing of the shop, beautiful carpets layered on the floor below her like a quilt of colors. It was a small haven that gave her peace and distraction from the dull ache in her teeth.

 

Cyclonus grumbled as he walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist. Galvatron rolled over on the bed and gave a seductive purr at the sight of his partner’s strengthened body. If there was one thing Cyclonus never let go to waste it was his strength. Years upon years and the look of the pilot’s fading scars against his strong back and chest still filled Galvatron with desire.

“Stop staring,” the pilot snapped, smoothly changing from the towel to briefs and soon to follow black jeans that pulled tight against his lanky body.

“Can’t help myself. You’re amazing.”

“Where’s Temperance?”

Galvatron frowned at his dashed attempts at flirting and sighed. He cocked a brow and glanced over at the nightstand where a note written in beautiful handwriting sat by the lamp. He leaned over with a groan and picked it up.

“Seems she’s at the book shop again. You think she’s avoiding us?”

At this thought Cyclonus narrowed his crimson eyes as he pulled a sweater over his head and down over the very body that was attracting so much of the war lord’s attention. The man grabbed his shoes and pulled them on after socks, silent as he did so. “It was just a thought. She could just be hanging out with the harpy and the siren, you know. She likes them.”

“The last time I trusted her to go out with her friends she was nearly raped in an alley,” Cyclonus snapped, grabbing a jacket and throwing it on his shoulders.

“But she wasn’t.”

“Galvatron,” Cyclonus snapped, turning back. However, it was the pilot who was caught off guard. The war lord pulled him down on the bed and into a kiss that was deep and knowing. Cyclonus shuddered as his hair was woven between Galvatron’s fingers, his own hand reaching behind and grabbing a fistful of the war lord’s short, wavy hair. When the two parted Galvatron pressed their forehead’s together in a loving gesture, hissing in a long breath of air as he waited for his love to catch up. “I love her… and I’m scared…” The man whispered, almost too quiet for even the world to hear the confession.

“I know… as do I, but you must trust her. You must stand beside her, not in front of her.”

Cyclonus nodded, giving a return kiss and sighing. The two stayed forehead to forehead for a long moment before Galvatron whispered a soft loving word in Russian into the pilot’s ear as he turned to leave. “If anything she’s probably teething. Her secondaries are close to falling out soon. Not even a rogue messes with a teether.”

 

Sure enough Temperance was left undisturbed and was rereading the story of Persephone and Hades for the fourth time. She’d long finished her tea latte and breakfast. Now she was gnawing at the tip of her thumb, hoping to draw some blood. She decided it was best to leave and go home now that the words on the page were beginning to fog up. She was hungry and more coffee shop baked goods couldn’t sate her needs.

Just as she was standing to stretch Cyclonus walked from the path between the stacks to find the young woman tugging her sweater down and gathering her trash and the books she’d decided on. Her face flashed with shock as she dropped her cup and plate into the dish tray was.

“Morning?”

Cyclonus, however, said nothing. He simply knelt and held the girl close in a hug. She jolted, face working through what was going on. At first it was shock, confusion, then worry and finally acceptance to the gesture. She smiled and held him close, rubbing his broad shoulders. “Have a bad dream?”

“No,” he whispered, standing back to his full height. “Are you done here?”

“Yes,” she nodded, his thumb pulling up her lip as he inspected her teeth. “The hurt.”

“You’re losing two. Is that why you’ve been distant?”

“I… imagine, yeah… yeah that’s probably it,” she shrugged and nodded.

Books bought and wrapped in tissue paper, packed in a paper bag and sent off with the quiet nod of Simon and the wave of Brandon the two departed. Outside the chill of the season was strong and Temperance shivered, legs shaking as she regretted wearing something so thin. Seeing her soft shaking Cyclonus took his coat off and draped it gently around her shoulders. The young woman gave him a soft, appreciative smile with the crane of her neck as the two walked back towards the main street.

“Cyclonus?” She asked, seeing that their conversation would not be overheard in the chaos of the mid-morning crowd.

“Yes?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Did you want to stop by the bakery?”

“No,” she said firmly, tugging on his sleeve. “I’m _hungry_.”

 

The two barely made it back to the club before Temperance had pulled Cyclonus close. The young woman slammed the back door to the building hastily, the two collapsing in the hallway towards the office. The pilot was surprised how she pulled him close to her, her strength far beyond what seemed possible. He let his knees hit the floor as she took control. He remembered his own sense of urgency when he lost his second teeth. All social customs were thrown to the wind when you were filled with this insatiable hunger for blood. Luckily you still had your senses, knowing who and who you could not feed from.

Cyclonus let his eyes flutter closed as he felt Temperance pull him into a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongue were caught between teeth as they kissed, the young woman’s energy alive with a fire that seemed almost impossible for her nature. It betrayed everything she seemed to stand for. And yet she daringly nipped and sucked along Cyclonus’ jawline until she found the crook of his neck. The man hissed as she sucked hard, the skin bruising and blood vessels tender. A groan of pain escaped the man as he felt a mouthful of sharp canines dig into his skin and his blood filling her mouth.

The young woman moaned as she grabbed a fistful of Cyclonus’ hair and licked eagerly at the bite, sinking her teeth in for second taste. All reason seemed to dissolve when the smoky taste of Cyclonus’ blood filled her mouth. Temperance knew the meaning of losing your grip on reality but this took the phrase to a whole new level. The taste felt like an instant high, the scent like no other perfume. All of it was a rush of adrenaline shaken with the dizzying sensation that she was close to passing out.

When she was done, lips and chin dripping with ribbons of deep red, a familiar and almost distant voice of Galvatron whistled slowly. The large man was standing in the hallway and raising his brows in a gesture of being impressed. Cyclonus, however, held the wound on his neck and slid up the wall jerkily.

“Sated now, I imagine?” Galvatron asked the young woman who was wiping the blood from her face. Her bright blue eyes looked down at her hands that were stained with dark blood. For a moment she couldn’t process what was all over her. She looked down and saw the blood that stained her neck and the collar of her sweater. She looked up at the two men in front of her with an expression of pure horror before the world seemed to slip out from under her like a silk cloth. She felt like she hit the ground and also that she’d fallen through a sea of soft darkness.

Back in the land of the living Galvatron had caught the girl and looked over to Cyclonus with another rare expression of shock. He lifted her into his arms and sighed. “She always do this?”

“She’s not fond of the sight of blood.”

“Real kicker that she’s what she is, huh?” The war lord snickered, jerking his head towards the other end of the hall where the door to his office was open. “Come on. Fledgling bites don’t seal like others do.”

Inside the parlor area Galvatron sat Temperance on the chaise lounge and then turned to Cyclonus. Sure, the young woman was covered in blood, but she wasn’t injured. The war lord carefully pulled the pilot’s hand from his neck, giving him a hard look when Cyclonus resisted. “Stop resisting help. It’s no longer cute and coy.” Sighing the pilot let his hand drop. Galvatron stared at the bite and smirked. She was young and fresh, but her teeth were strong. The bite had gone deep.

“You’re not double biting,” Cyclonus said before the man could even move.

“If I don’t this won’t clot right.”

“It will heal fine.”

“Cyc,” the man growled, holding him in place. “Trust me?”

The pilot giving a low, guttural growl of defeat and a roll of his eyes he turned his neck, exposing the wound. Galvatron smiled to himself as he leaned close and inspected the bite. Sure enough the edges were swelling, but the blood was still sticky and it didn’t seem that it would close on its own. The pilot had been snagged by a stupid youngling decades ago and the double bite that the war lord had to administer was rushed and sloppy. It was no wonder that he didn’t want to suffer the punishment of a second one. When done right the double bite can be something of a erogenous gesture, but done by a novice it’s more pain than even turning. Luckily, Galvatron was no novice.

Slowly pulling Cyclonus’ purple hair away from the wound Galvatron exposed the pilot’s neck, careful not to touch the skin. He slid his hand up the other side of the man’s neck slowly and gave a soft bite to the skin above the injury. He smiled when he was rewarded with a soft hiss of sweetness from Cyclonus. Another just above the collar bone, exposed as Galvatron pulled some of the pilot’s shirt away, keeping up with the soft pulses of stimulation to numb the bite.

Then, unexpectedly Galvatron slowly slid his sharp teeth into the bite, his own large teeth stretching the flesh that throbbed with sensitivity. He hid his chuckle as Cyclonus gripped his shoulder tightly with a smothered gasp. The war lord led the man’s head back as he bit his lip, legs spreading almost out of instinct. Cyclonus ground his teeth as he felt his stoicism dissolve, the bite far from the pain he’d felt a long time ago.

Once his teeth were rooted into Temperance’s bite Galvatron let some of his saliva run over the wound. He took his own taste of Cyclonus’ blood, a rare treat, and pulled away, the bite clotting and beginning to heal the moment he’d parted from the crook of the pilot’s neck. Galvatron smirked, licking his lips as his partner came shamefully back to his senses. He lowered his head and turned away, face red beneath his dusty complexion as he grumbled a thanks.

“No need. I know using manners literally rots a part of your soul,” Galvatron chuckled as he pulled some wet wipes from a drawer in his desk and began cleaning the young woman who had rolled on her side on the lounge.  

The pilot, bitterly slighted by such an insinuation, stood off the desk with a grunt to check on Temperance. Sure enough the girl was fast asleep and now cleaned of the blood. Galvatron tugged the sweater off over her head and lifted the girl into her arms. “Just taking her back to a real bed. She sees more of this parlor than she does of a real bed,” he smirked, jerking his head to beckon Cyclonus along after him.

In the bedroom the lights were dim in such a way that gave an ethereal feel to the room. Galvatron set the young woman down gently in the center of the huge bed and sighed with a smile on his face. Cyclonus stared at the man for a long while before he checked his watch. “Eh, we have a few hours of daylight to kill.”

And so the pilot and the war lord climbed into bed and laid at either of the young woman’s sides. Cyclonus sighed and laid an arm across her torso as Galvatron did the same. He ignored the frown that the pilot was boring into his shoulder with silence alone.

“Do you know why they killed the pig?” Cyclonus asked, voice low and gruff.

“No.”

“He had too much cheek,” the pilot snapped under his breath.

“Oh, look who grew a sense of humor,” Galvatron chuckled. “Relax, I’m not grabbing either of your asses. Try to find peace in the moment for once, huh?”

Sighing in resolve Cyclonus curled close and let the three of them lie in peace. The warmth was nice and he, although too proud to admit it, missed nights like that. When they were younger, before the bites and blood and carnage that traced the lands they once called home, these sort of nights under the stars were nice. Looking up Cyclonus smothered a smile as he saw a skylight with a map of the stars painted on the sectioned panes. Seeing this hidden happiness Galvatron pulled the two closer.

“You used to stay up all night looking at the stars… Kinda disappointed it took you so long to notice,” he sighed, Cyclonus giving him a deadpan look of irritation. “What, too mushy?” The war lord smirked.

“Be quiet before you wake her.”

“Too late,” a soft peep of a voice came, Temperance’s eyes opening and her crystal clear blue eyes sparkling between them. Cyclonus ground his teeth and ducked his head to hide his blush, moving away from the young woman. Despite his attempts, however, Temperance held him in place and gave a warm smile to each of the men. “Stay. Both of you,” she whispered.

Galvatron smirked at Cyclonus and pulled his face over for a gentle kiss between lips. Temperance smiled and pulled her legs up to keep herself warm. Just as she was about to fall back into a real slumber she felt two lips press soft, gentle kisses to her cheeks. Her face warmed with red as she giggled, hiding her face with her hands. Galvatron, seeing her embarrassment, pulled her hands away and gently kissed the knuckles of each. Almost as if it was a competition, Cyclonus then pulled her head over and pressed his own lips to hers.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed, shaking her head as the men let her free. “God, you two.”

“Cyclonus thinks I’m being selfish when I say I adore you. I think he’s being stingy,” Galvatron chuckled, pulling her close. The pilot didn’t like this and leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around the young woman protectively. “See what I mean?”

“I love the both of you… love isn’t selfish… it’s endearing,” she whispered, lacing her fingers with Cyclonus’ and laying her body so that she was on her back between them, sighing in comfort.

“Now if you tell me that what Tempy said wasn’t mushier than the constellation map I give up,” the war lord chuckled.

“Shut up,” Cyclonus hissed, resting his head on Temperance’s shoulder. “Just shut up.”

The war lord pretended not to notice the pilot’s hand lacing their own fingers together as the world dimmed above them, sunset’s light gleaming through the spaces where the stars would be. The penthouse of the club, although brooding and intense, was soft and gently romantic for the first time since its construction. It was as if Temperance’s very presence was a catalyst for true love. She played the perfect part of cohesion between the three of them. It was wonderful.

Temperance sighed peacefully and opened her eyes once she knew the men were asleep. She smiled wide and bit her bottom lip to hide her laugh, hoping to pull her lips back together. The time where her life was as a living doll in a hospital, chased their by darkness incarnate, seemed so far away it felt like a dream. Shadows were no longer filled with fear and the night was not something to avoid. And no longer did she second guess love. She would never be forgotten here. Not anymore…

 


End file.
